


Clear Your Eyes To The Perspective

by harcourt



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Conditioning, Gaslighting, M/M, PWP, Verbal Humiliation, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harcourt/pseuds/harcourt
Summary: Parson might insist he doesn't want Carly, but that's fine. It's not like Carly can't see the fucking evidence, all he has to do is get Parson to admit to the proof.He's pretty sure he can make that happen.
Relationships: Carly/Kent "Parse" Parson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Clear Your Eyes To The Perspective

Parson was still fighting and mad. He was stubborn, Carly could get that. A guy didn't make it to the NHL without being at least a little bit of a hardhead. But a guy _also_ didn't make it to the NHL without being able to take direction from their betters, top pick rookie or not. Parson would learn how to get along, like every rookie before him, even if getting bounced for attitude wasn't likely to be in his future. 

"Relax, Parser," Carly told him, when Parson's face crunched up at his entry, all grumpy and petulant like a kid. Like he wanted to pick a fight but knew he wouldn't win it. "Quit being such an idiot." It was fine if he wanted to keep it up. Carly had all of training camp to knock it out of him. Maybe all of the season, if things worked out. The next, if it didn't. It wasn't like Carly was an old timer or anything. He had plenty of time to turn Parson around. 

He grinned, leaning back and resting his elbows on the little counter of Parson's hotel room, where a little basket of instant coffee packets and tea bags lived, next to an electric kettle. "It's not like I'm gonna tell on you."

Parson's scowl deepened and his chin jutted in offence. "I'm not the one who--"

"Aren't you?" Carly could admit that he wasn't usually smooth, but he was managing it now, sounding innocent and genuinely curious even to his own ears, and Parson's stubborn look faltered a little at the sound of it. "You're coming pretty hard for a guy who's not into it."

"I--"

Carly laughed again. "Don't worry. I'm not gonna tell anyone what you're into."

Parson's frown was a lot softer now than when Carly had first come in. That was how it always went--Parson acting like a fucking hotshot too good to be touched until Carly reminded him how effectively he'd been pounded, and how much he liked it. 

"Unless _you_ want to," Carly went on, making it sound like a question and not a threat. "I know at least a couple of the guys'd be real into hearing about how much you like to take cock." Carly'd fucked him in a bunch of places. His room, Carly's, even at the arena, against a wall and shoving into him hard enough that he'd brought Parson up to his toes with each thrust. "You can tell them you're a real star at that, too. An all-around champion."

Parson's face flushed, remembering, and he tilted his head to hide behind the brim of his hat, which made Carly chuckle. "Oh yeah," he said. "You're a real nice hole to get a dick into. You just need to chill out about it and enjoy."

Parson muttered something, too low to make out. It sounded like protest, and his shoulders hunched up.

"Come on," Carly said, straightening up and stretching. "The guys want to go eat somewhere, so we've only got a couple hours."

Parson didn't move.

"You wanna show me how you like it, or d'you want me to demonstrate?" Again. But that was okay. Carly wasn't exactly tired of pointing out all the ways that Parson's protest and denials were so much hot air. Just bullshit he spouted right up until he got something in his ass--cock, fingers, the neck of a bottle one time, when Carly had really needed to prove the point. Even Parson couldn't fucking deny the reality when he was panting on the end of Carly's beer empties. Maybe one day Carly would pour one into him. See if that loosened him up any.

"I can," Parson said, hesitant, but before Carly could decide on his own plan of action. He fumbled his fly open and got his dick out. Gave it a stoke. It was uninspired as shit.

"Seriously,' Carly said. "That's what you want me to think you're into? Sad handies?"

Parson licked his lip. Looked confused.

"Get up on the bed," Carly told him, coming over and hauling him around and onto his knees before Parson could move himself. "I told you we haven't got all day." He shoved Parson onto all fours, considered how he looked with his dick hanging out of his pants, not even half-hard and proving that Parson hadn't been trying at all. Carly yanked his pants down, over his ass, to bunch at his knees, then flicked at Parson's cock with a finger. "Make that hard. Quit pretending you don't know how."

Parson whimpered, then cut it off, strangling it into a whine that was even more pathetic, but he didn't move. Carly picked his hat up off his head, turned it around, then set it back on Parson's head, to make his face more visible. "Fine," Carly said, and stuck two fingers in his own mouth, getting them wet before pulling them back out and nudging at Parson's hole. "I can connect the fucking dots for you one more time, if you want."

As expected, he only got halfway in before Parson started gasping and twitching, his hole tightening around Carly's fingers. His cock hardened as Carly stretched him out and he tried to widen his stance, but his pants were still around his knees, getting in the way.

"Every fucking time, Parser," Carly said, pulling his fingers out to replace them with his thumb, hooking it in and tugging at Parson's rim. "Always the same shit, and then look at you." He blew against Parson's hole, driving home how wide open he was and how easy it was to get him there, ribs heaving and his breath interspersed with little moans. "This time, we're staying until you say how much you like it."

Parson wheezed, then sucked in a breath. "The guys--"

"Will come looking for sure, if we don't show. But maybe that'd work out, huh?" He wiggled his thumb in Parson's ass, barely inside, just teasing. "I bet you'd like to get Scrappy in here. You seen how big he is? How fast d'you think you'd come on that dick, Parser?"

Parson scrunched his face up again, jamming his eyes shut and shaking his head.

"No? You're only letting me have this, huh?" Carly pulled his thumb out and slid it back in, then stilled, fingers resting along the curve of Parson's butt. 

"Yeah," Parson agreed, then swallowed. Carly dug his fingers in, squeezing. Leaving bruises, with any luck. Not to injure, but just to show he'd been there.

"Well. You got that much right. Don't let me catch you sharing this."

That was Carly's own line of shit. Parson was too scared of getting caught to run around on him, and as hot as the idea of watching him get fucked was, Carly wasn't a big sharer. He pulled his thumb out and shoved three fingers in and felt Parson shudder around them. "Got it, Parser?

"Got it." His breath was hitching. Parson was kind of a crier when he got worked up. Carly couldn't decide if it was hot or annoying.

"Good." Carly pulled his fingers out and wiped them on Parson's shirt. "Now get up and get in the bathroom."

Parson did it, moving slowly and suspiciously, pausing to decide if he needed to get out of his pants or not, then decided against it when Carly raised his eyebrows at the delay. 

"Lean over the sink." Carly stepped up behind him, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck to keep him in place, staring down his own reflection as Carly unbuttoned his pants, gave himself a preparatory stroke, then lined up.

"Look at that, " Carly told him, working himself in. "Look how you love to take it." Parson's mouth was open, eyes wide and glassy, like he was shocked as fuck to be entered, and like every half inch was a fresh surprise.

"Uh," Parson managed.

"That's right," Carly said, as if he'd given clear agreement. "That's how I know you're a fucking liar, Parser." He gave a little thrust, sliding further in, stretching Parson around him and making him moan, body tightening around Carly's dick. "You see that? Parser?"

Parson panted, tried to struggle, then subsided and leaned onto his elbows before pushing up again, then went through the whole sequence again. Sweat was beading at the nape of his neck, making his hair damp under Carly's restraining hand. 

"Yeah," Parson squeaked, finally, clenching and relaxing around Carly, struggling to take it. Carly took the opportunity to shove in a little more, and this time Parson groaned and his feet shuffled in an attempt to squirm away. Carly moved to pin him against the edge of the sink.

"Head up, Parser. I want you to see what everyone else sees." And then maybe he'd be done pretending to refuse it. "And if you don't, we can always get my phone and you can watch it on video."

Maybe Carly could do that anyway. Keep Parson's face out of frame, but make him watch Carly share the recording. Make him listen to some objective feedback about how eager he obviously was to get something inside him. He was pushing back now against Carly, still staring at his own panting face in the mirror, mesmerized by his response the way Carly was. His eyes were warm in the yellow light of the bathroom, darker than they usually looked and unfocused. Shiny with moisture. Tears were streaked at their corners, dampness smudged across his cheeks, but he was breathing in time with Carly's shallow thrusts, little sounds punched out of him with each one, until he ran out of breath and inhaled in one ragged gulp. 

"Get a hand in here if you wanna come," Carly told him, to make him participate. So he'd have to stop making out like he wasn't as into it as Carly was. "Because if I finish first, you're not going to. I'm just gonna button you back into your jeans, go to dinner, and you can wait until you decide you want to be here." It was too much like a hockey speech, but it worked on Parson, because after making a few whiny, complaining noises, he lifted a hand from the counter and wrapped it around himself.

Carly laughed. "Wrong, Parser," he said, and reached to guide Parson's hand to where his dick was rocking in and out of his body. " _In_ here." 

Parson whined, and jerked, but Carly held on to his wrist and kept thrusting, keeping it slow. "You can make your hand wet," he offered, and let go so Parson could spit into his palm and smush it around before he reached back and wiggled a finger in next to Carly's dick, making the fit even tighter. In the mirror, Parson's eyes had gone from wide and shocked to half-lidded. His mouth was parted, his lips full and wet, the tip of his tongue barely peeking out. It made Carly's dick hurt. Maybe he'd fuck Parson's mouth when they were done, or just have him get down and lick Carly's cock until Carly came on his face. 

Or maybe he'd just have Parson hold him on his tongue until it was time to go. Let Parson meet the guys still tasting Carly in his mouth.

"Fuck," Carly groaned, as Parson worked another finger in. He was clenching up in spasms, his breath coming in sobs. Carly felt the same way, so turned on he was lightheaded. "Fuck, Parser, you're so fucking hungry for it. Look at you. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even fucking know how much you need it."

Parson's dick was rubbing against the counter, but he was still trying to get off that way, leaving wet streaks that Carly wouldn't point out until after he'd come, and then maybe he'd put Parson on his knees right there to contemplate his mess and the lies he kept trying to tell them both. And if he had to repeat the lesson later, then so be it. It wasn't like he'd get bored, fucking Parson until he admitted how much he needed it, and needed Carly. Until he fucking got how lost he'd be without someone to prove his own dishonesty to him. To show him that his body was giving him away and anyone could see it. 

Parson was stubborn, but he wasn't unteachable. With some time and determination, Carly could totally bring him around.


End file.
